


God, Please Call Me Back

by favabean05



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Dreams, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, zimbits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favabean05/pseuds/favabean05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Zimmermann wakes from a nightmare, deep in the grips of an anxiety attack. The only thing that can bring him out of it lives a hour away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta irollforinitiative :)

After the fairytale run to the Frozen Four in Jack Zimmerman’s senior year, the next year the Samwell men’s hockey team finds themselves not only back in the tournament, but in the _finals_. Jack sits right behind the glass of Samwell’s bench, Shitty by his side, bursting with pride as he watches his former team fly across the ice. However, he can’t help but follow the path #15 takes more often than the others. Whatever. He’s allowed.

Jack never got over how proud he feels every time he sees Bitty on the ice. Back when they played, even more so as their relationship blossomed, his heart would always soar when Bitty would catch the puck, pass, or shoot toward the goal. 

Bitty skates past, catches Jack’s eye, and grins. Jack returns the smile, but it slowly falls as he catches movement behind Bitty. The same asshole who checked him so badly the year before, is barreling full speed toward him. Jack’s heart plummets, and he leaps to his feet.

“Bittle, watch it!!” He shouts but it’s drowned by celebrations as their opponent scores. 

Bitty never sees it coming.

The sickening crack of the impact, the gasps and outcry from the crowd, the refs whistle are all white noise as Jack watches Bitty collapse to the ice in a tangle of limbs. All playing stops. There’s panic in the air as trainers rush the ice. Jack sees Lardo clap her hands to her face, Chowder quickly hugging her to his side, and all hell breaks loose within him. 

Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. Why isn’t Bitty getting up? Why isn’t he being helped to his feet? How bad it is? Oh god, how bad is it? Jack cranes his neck, desperate to see what’s going on. He clamors to the glass, Shitty grabbing hold of his arm to hold him back. Jack wrenches free, climbing over the wall to hit the ice. 

“Bittle!” he shouts, running as best he can. He can’t sit Bitty through the crowd, which seems to grow exponentially with each step. Arms grasp his, hindering him, and Jack begins swearing in French at every person in the sea of humanity between them. Why does it feel Bitty is getting farther and farther away?

“Shit, is he breathing?” he hears a nameless, faceless body ask beside him and Jack’s heart seizes. 

“No, _merde_ , please...Bitty, hang on _mon dieu…_ ” 

The crowd parts and Jack’s eyes fall on his boyfriend, lying limp on the ice. He locks eyes with his former trainer, whose eyes are shining. The trainer shakes his head and Jack’s legs buckle, collapsing to the ice.

“No...Bitty, god, no. Bittle...Bittle!!”

\------------------------------

“Bittle!” 

Jack sits bolt upright with a sharp gasp. His hands fumble in the dark a moment before finding purchase in the sheets, and Jack holds on for dear life. He’s panting, gasping, his chest constricting with each breath. He quickly looks to the other side of the bed, cool and empty, and his chest tightens even more. He is alone. Bitty. Where is Bitty? Samwell. Back at Samwell. Is he okay? God, is he okay? Jack remembers the sight of him, slumped motionless on the ice. White, hot panic slices through his heart.

_No...no, no, he can’t…_

Jack immediately reaches toward his nightstand, fumbling with his cell phone with shaking hands. He taps the screen harder than he means to and the phone is knocked from his palm, getting lost in the folds of the blankets.

 _“Merde,”_ Jack swears, scrambling to pick it up. It’s already ringing. Jack presses the phone so hard against his ear it begins to ache. 

It rings. And rings.

“ _Merde_ , Bittle,” Jack swears shakily. “Answer the phone.”

_“Hey, there! You’ve reached Eric Bittle. Sorry I couldn’t answer, I’m probably elbows deep in flour. But leave a message!!”_

Jack’s pulse quickens as he hear the phone pick up, but his heart sinks when it’s the voicemail. It helps to hear Bittle’s voice. A little. That sweet southern drawl that Jack needs to hear. In real life, not over a machine. He needs to know Bitty is okay.

“B-Bittle,” Jack gasps out, his voice shaking. “Bitty...call...god, please call me back. Please…”

He hangs up and stares at the screen, willing the phone to light up with Bitty’s returned call. He always calls back, Jack tells himself. Always. Never mind that it’s three in the morning, Bitty always calls back. He huffs and hops off the bed, pacing the perimeter of his bedroom exactly 2.5 times before dialing again. 

It rings out. 

_“Hey there! You’ve reached Eric Bittle. Sorry I couldn’t--”_

Jack sobs out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, falling back onto the bed and drawing his knees up to his chest. Tears roll down his cheeks and Jack swears in French as he swipes at them with heavy hands. Breathe, he tells himself. Breathe. You’re fine. Bitty’s fine. He’s okay. _Crisse_ , but what if he isn’t? Maybe that’s why he’s not answering. The room is shrinking. He’s suffocating. Jack is gulping air, and he feels like he’s drowning, looking upward at the ocean surface. 

He’s just about to dial again when his phone lights up. 

_FaceTime call from ‘Bittle’._

Jack can’t hit ‘accept’ fast enough and he clutches the phone as the call connects. He vaguely worries about crushing it, then suddenly Bittle’s face appears in the palm of his hand, sharp with concern, if not tired at the edges.

“Baby?” came Bittle’s voice through the speaker and suddenly Jack’s breached the surface. That soft, sweet, sleepy-yet-alert voice that sends a jolt through him, yet lifts him up so easily. He’s too swept up in his relief to answer. 

“Jack?” Bitty speaks again, his voice a little louder. “Honey, can you hear me? I heard your message, what’s wrong?”

Jack fights through the tightness of his throat, jaw working wordlessly as he just stares at his boyfriend’s face.

“Jesus, you’re starting to scare me. Jack!” he calls sharply.

Jack jumps at that, blinking rapidly as he settles back into reality. “Bitty…” he croaks, his voice strangled against the tightness that remained in his chest. 

“Oh no, “ Bittle whispered, dipping slightly out of the frame as he sits up quickly. “Jack, you’re having an attack...” 

“Are you okay?” Jack blurts out, breathing too quickly. The world is beginning to dim around the edges.

“Oh, sweetheart, yes,” Bitty says, nodding quickly. “I’m here. Everything’s okay. Are you home?”

Jack nods, nearly frantic. “Yes,” he replies, his voice shaking so much in just one syllable.

Bittle leans more toward the camera. “Jack, listen to me. Listen to my voice, okay sweetheart? Breathe for me. Breathe. Just like we’ve practiced. In for four, out for seven all right? In, two, three, four...out, two, three…” 

Jack draws in a shaky breath, rushing it all out by the time Bittle only gets to three. He inhales again at Bittle’s encouragement, and soon, several breathing cycles later, the bonds constricting his chest loosen. He feels the weight easing off of him, his vision becoming clearer. Jack is able to focus better, his eyes falling on Bittle. Sweet, soft Bittle, who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s here. He’s okay. Jack wipes the wetness from the corners of his eyes, sighing hard and slumping against the headboard. 

“Jack?”

“I’m okay,” Jack replies, sighing and nodding slowly. “I think...I think the worst is over..”

“Thank God, you scared me.”

“You scared me first,” Jack replies but sighs. “I had a nightmare. One that felt really, really real, and I…I thought you were...” his voice breaks slights and he scrubs his face with his free hand, fighting the slight sting of remaining tears.

“Shh…” Bitty shushes him gently and shakes his head. “I’m right here, Jack. I’m okay. Go get some water, okay? Take me with you, but go get a glass of water.”

Jack nods slowly and his body feels sluggish now as the panic subsides. He tries to keep the camera at his face as he slips out of bed and pads through to his kitchen. 

“Do you need your medication?” Bitty’s soft, steady voice rose from the phone at his side. “How bad was this one?”

“Pretty bad, but I think I’m alright without it,” Jack replies, his voice stronger. More calm. “You’ve helped so much. You pulled me back, Bits…”

He hears Bittle sigh with relief. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad, honey.”

Jack sets the phone down on the countertop, camera facing up, and he reaches into the cabinet with steadier hands. He pulls down his Samwell coffee mug, and he hears Bitty laugh softly at the sight of it.

“Homesick?” he asks.

Jack smiles and shakes his head. “No...you-sick.” 

Jack fills it and holds it by the handle, taking another slow breath as his eyes slide across his alma mater’s name.

“Jack Zimmerman...drink,” Bitty said, firmly but gently.

Jack huffs a small laugh and drinks several swallows. He then sets the mug back down to the counter and picks up the phone.. “You’re starting to get bossy, Bits.” he says after a second, smiling tiredly at the screen. “You looking to get that C next year?”

At that, Bittle huffs himself into laughter, his free hand pressed to his chest. “You must be feeling better, if you’re chirpin’ me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m better now,” Jack sighs and nods, padding back to the bedroom. “I’m sorry I woke you,” he adds, feeling sheepish.

“Don’t worry none about that,” Bitty says quickly, waving his hand. The camera jostles slightly but stills as Bitty props his phone up, laying on his side to face it.

Jack groans softly and slides into the bed, stretching out and rolling onto his side. He pulls the other pillow over and leans his phone length-wise against it. He smiles at Bitty’s sleepy face, and he finally feels normal. Like all is well.

“You want to talk about it?” Bitty asks, and Jack shakes his head.

“Not now. Maybe in the morning.”

“It is morning,” Bitty chirps, good-naturedly.

Jack chuckles softly. “When the sun’s up, then.”

“Okay,” Bitty replies, smiling wide.

“Are you still coming to Providence this weekend?” Jack asks, voice thick and drowsy.

Bitty nods. “Mmhmm. M’last class Friday is at 10. I’ll be at your apartment in time for lunch.”

Jack hums and closes his eyes. “I’ll be at practice then.”

“Good thing you gave me a key last time.”

Jack grins then opens his eyes, pleased to see as big a grin on his boyfriend’s face. “I did, didn’t I?”

Bitty chuckles softly. “You did.” He pulls the covers up to his shoulder and sighs slowly. “You’re all right now, Jack. You can rest now. I’ll stay here til you fall asleep.”

Jack nestled in the blankets, staring at Bitty before his eyes slid closed. Sleep was beginning to pull him back under. “I wish you were really here beside me...instead of in a phone.”

“I know, sweetheart. But soon. A year from now, I’ll be right there.”

“Mmm...Bitty?”

“Hmm?”

Jack cracked his eyes open, a sweet sleepy smile spreading across his face because, oh, how he loves Bittle so.

“Love you,” he murmurs, eyes closing once more.

“I love you too, Jack. Sleep well, baby.”

Jack’s mind and body finally -- _finally_ \-- relax, letting the last dregs of his anxiety melt away. He falls asleep to the sounds of Bittle’s breathing, comforted knowing his boyfriend is safe and by his side. Even though they are miles apart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jack wakes up suddenly in the grips of an anxiety attack, Bitty is only one who can bring him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While chapter 1 was in Jack's POV...chapter 2 is in Bitty's.
> 
> Also I couldn't get the tilde-over-the-n to work, so ignore that?
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta irollforinitiative.

Bitty rarely dreams anymore. When he does, it’s usually something illogical and fun. He once dreamed of fighting zombies with Beyonce. No, usually when Bitty curls up in bed with Senor Bun, he falls fast asleep and wakes up in the morning, with no adventures in between. 

Except tonight. 

Bitty was re-living his figure skating days -- gliding, spinning, and twirling his way across the ice. He isn’t at his old home rink, he’s in Faber, landing a perfect triple axel to the beat of “Halo”. Bitty whips around the ice, readying himself for another jump, when the music track skips and a loud buzz reverberates across the rink. Bitty nearly falls from the fright of it, steadying himself against the visitors bench, staring quizzically up at the rink speakers. After a few moments, the buzzing ends, and Beyonce begins anew, and Bitty shrugs it off to technology just bein’ plain weird. 

Minutes later, he winds up to make the same jump, sticking the toe in the ice and leaping. As he reaches the peak, the music skips again, the buzzing returning. But it’s louder. More intense. Bitty feels it cut through him and he startles, falling out of the jump and hitting the ice with hard thump.

\------

“Mmmph…?” Bitty groans as he stirs awake, distantly aware of his cell phone buzzing on the bed beside his ear. “What the sam hill is…” He groans and fumbles for the phone, and it goes still as he picks up up with heavy hands. Bitty swipes his finger across the screen and blinks several times to focus his attention to the notification across the center of the screen.

_Two missed calls from Jack Zimmerman.  
One voicemail._

“What…?” Bitty murmurs, sitting up slightly and checking the clock on his nightstand. 3:04am. Why was Jack calling him? Bitty pulls up his voicemail and presses the phone to his ear, yawning.

_“B-Bittle...Bitty...call...god, please call me back. Please…”_

Bitty’s heart hammers and he is suddenly wide awake. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Jack’s voice was shaking so badly, Bitty could barely understand half the message. Oh god, what could have happened?

Bitty sits up and turns on the lamp at his bedside with one hand, the other deftly drawing up Jack’s listing in his phone. Stay calm, he reminded himself, as he tapped the screen to initiate a FaceTime call. It connects after one ring.

The screen loads and comes to life, and Bitty’s heart rises higher into his throat. Jack looks _wrecked_. Cheeks flushed and damp with tears. Even in the dark room, his pupils are nearly pinpoints,

“Baby?” Bitty says, his brows furrowed. Jack says nothing, only stares. Bitty raises his voice. “Jack? Honey, can you hear me? I heard your message, what’s wrong?”

Bitty lifts up to his elbows, heart beating harder. He watches Jack’s jaw work, but he still hasn’t spoken a word. Bitty’s chest tightens. 

“Jesus, you’re starting to scare me,” Bitty says quickly, then calls out sharply. “Jack!”

Bitty watches Jack visibly jump, then all at once, he sees his boyfriend again. He sees Jack blink quickly, his eyes falling straight to the screen. 

“Bitty…”

“Oh no,” Bitty sat up quickly, his heart hammering. He has been through enough of Jack’s anxiety attacks, especially at the start of his season with the Falcs, he’s kicking himself he didn’t immediately recognize it. “Jack, you’re having a attack…”

“Are you okay?”

Bitty blinks then softens, beginning to understand. “Oh, sweetheart, yes,” he nods quickly. “I’m here. Everything’s okay.” Bitty quickly looked at the background behind Jack, but it was too dark to make anything out. “Are you home?”

Jack’s frantic nod makes Bitty’s heart sink. The shaky “yes” he hears in reply breaks it in two.

“Jack, listen to me,” he leans toward the camera on his phone, his face filling the screen. “Listen to my voice, okay sweetheart? Breathe for me. Breathe. Just like we’ve practiced.” 

The first time Bitty talked Jack through an anxiety attack, it was the evening after Jack’s first full team practice with the Falconers. Pressure had been building since graduation, Bitty was told later, and he felt as useless as snow chains in Madison as he watched his boyfriend gasp, shake, and sob through a laptop monitor. However with each time Jack’s anxiety reared its head, Bitty learned the helpful tricks a little bit more each time. 

“In for four, out for seven all right? In, two, three, four...out, two, three…” 

Bitty breathes in, a little exaggerated, to help coax Jack, but the poor boy couldn’t make it past ‘three’. “It’s okay, baby. Try again for me. Breathe…”

Several minutes pass, Bitty slowly counting as Jack harsh breaths eventually even out. He watches Jack physically change as his anxiety fades. His body, once looking like it could snap with tension, is melting with each passing moment. Finally, Bitty watches Jack sigh and slump back against the headboard. Bitty stops counting and appraises him. Hopefully the storm had passed.

“Jack?” he asks cautiously.

“I’m okay,” Jack replies, and Bitty feels the last embers of his own nerves fade. “I think,” Jack pauses and nods. “I think the worst is over.”

“Thank God.” Bitty sighs hard and sits back against his headboard, pulling Senor Bun into his lap. “You scared me.”

“You scared me first.” Bitty blinks and frowns, trying to think of what he could have possibly done. He’s about to ask when Jack sighs slowly. “I had a nightmare. One that felt really, really real, and I...I thought you were…”

Jack’s voice breaks, as does Bitty’s heart when he watches his boyfriend wipe tears from his eyes. Bitty knows, he realizes what Jack saw, and Bitty wants nothing more than to be able to wrap his arms around him. To hold him, kiss him, remind him that everything will be okay. 

“Shh…” Bitty shushes him softly, shaking his head. “I’m right here Jack. I’m okay.” He sees Jack with his face still pressed into his hands. He needs to get out of bed, he needs to move around. “Go get some water, okay? Take me with you, but go get a glass of water.”

Bitty watches Jack nod slowly then the screen jostles as Jack slides out of bed. Bitty catches glimpses of Jack’s bedsheets, then the wallpaper of his hallway. Good, he’s moving.

“Do you need your medication?” Bitty asked, knowing sometimes it’s a fight with Jack to take the pills when he needs to. Bitty understands why, understands Jack’s (well warranted) hesitation, but he needs Jack to realize needing the help does not make him weak. “How bad was this one?”

“Pretty bad, but I think I’m alright without it,” Jack says, and Bitty is pleased at how much stronger his voice sounds. Like he’s almost back to normal. “You’ve helped me so much. You pulled me back Bits.”

Bitty’s face warms and he sighs with relief. “Good. I’m glad, honey.” He had been so close to stealing Chowder’s car keys and driving to Providence. 

Bitty smiles as the video on his phone shifts, pointing up at Jack’s kitchen ceiling. He listened to Jack open the cabinets and chuckled as he spotted the familiar maroon Samwell coffee mug pass over the camera.

“Homesick?” he asks. 

“No,” he hears Jack reply. “You-sick.”

Bitty stifles a gasp, smiling fondly and closing his eyes. _This boy._ He loves him so.

He can still see the edge of Jack’s Samwell mug, which means Jack still hasn’t had any water. “Jack Zimmerman,” Bitty says. “Drink.”

He hears Jack laugh softly then the phone screen moves. Jack’s face fills the frame and Bitty grins with relief. Jack looks so much better, much more alert. Like himself. 

“You starting to get bossy, Bits.” Jack smiles at the screen and Bitty’s heart soars. “You looking to get that C next year?”

Bitty can’t help but laugh, pressing his hand to his chest. He felt like he could fly. “You must be feeling better, if you’re chirpin’ me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m better now,” Jack says. The camera is moving, Bitty hopes he is heading back to bed. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

_This precious Canadian boy will be the death of me._

“Don’t worry none about that,” Bitty waved his hand and sighed. He stretched back out in the bed, propping the phone against the pillow beside him. He sees Jack move his phone, then stretch out on his own bed. Bitty sighs softly, wishing he was actually there with him. 

“You want to talk about it?” Bitty asks softly.

Jack shakes his head. “Not now,” he replies. “Maybe in the morning.”

Bitty grins and chirps, “It _is_ morning.” Jack’s soft laughter washes over him and Bitty grins happily.

“When the sun’s up, then.”

“Okay.”

He watches Jack yawn. “Are you still coming to Providence this weekend?” His voice is already drowsy, and Bitty hopes he’ll be able to fall back to sleep soon.

“Mmhmm,” Bitty replies, feeling sleepy himself. “M’last class Friday is at 10. I’ll be at your apartment in time for lunch.”

“I’ll be at practice then,” Jack says as his eyes close. 

“Good thing you gave me a key last time.” Bitty beams at the memory. Jack had been so nervous, his hands had been shaking when he offered the key. Bitty had gasped and just leaped into his arms. That had been almost 2 months ago. Bitty is glad he’s has the chance to use it now.

“I did, didn’t I?” 

The smile on Jack’s face when he opens his eyes. Brighter than a summer day in Georgia. Bitty has never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

“You did.” Bitty pulls the covers over his shoulders, relaxing into the bed. Before he drifts off, he wants Jack to know he is okay. Even if he’s not there, he is still safe with him. “You’re all right now, Jack. You can rest now. I’ll stay here til you fall asleep.”

Their eyes lock through the phone screen and it almost -- _almost_ \-- feels like they are sleeping side-by-side. 

“I wish you were really here beside me,” Jack says, and Bitty nearly melts, “instead of in a phone.”

Bitty wishes he could reach out, brush back that adorable errant curl from Jack’s forehead. To cup his cheek, kiss him, hold him close. Forty minutes away, while still pretty near by, seems an eternity.

“I know sweetheart,” Bitty sighs sadly. “But soon. A year from now, I’ll be right there.” 

It’s true. The second after he receives his diploma, he and Jack -- let’s face it, Jack will move heaven and earth to be there to see Bitty walk across that stage -- will drive straight to Providence and live happily ever after.

“Mmm...Bitty?” 

Bitty looks up from his fantasies to smile as Jack, eyes closed and half asleep. “Hmm?”

Jack cracks his eyes open and Bitty’s heart aches with just how much he loves him. 

“Love you,” Jack murmurs. Bitty watches his eyes close again, and his shoulder slump slightly as sleep finally takes over.

“I love you too, Jack,” Bitty whispered. “Sleep well, baby.”

Bitty stays awake a little longer, fighting sleep himself, watching Jack sleep. He counts his even breaths, pleased that Jack is no longer gripped by panic and fear. Bitty touches Jack’s cheek on the screen and sighs slowly, whispering a final good night before ending the call. 

Their weekend in Providence can’t come soon enough.


End file.
